


On the Sexual Origins of Goblins

by pechee (sajere1)



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Porn With Plot, not so much alternate universe as far extension of canon but YKNOW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 06:20:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21114101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sajere1/pseuds/pechee
Summary: Fantasy fertility rituals are the kind of thing that only exist in stupid fanfiction written by people questioning their life choices. Unluckily, this is a stupid fanfiction that is written by someone questioning their life choices. So, you know, Riz has a problem on his hands.





	On the Sexual Origins of Goblins

Here’s the problem: it is really, really hot.

“It isn’t,” Fabian says through a mouthful of cereal, which had become his go-to meal in those rare times he deigns to grace the Darkmouth campus cafeteria with his presence. Normally, he and Riz take turns cooking – which is to say, normally Riz cooks, because Fabian has never touched an oven in his life and his attempts to learn are often fumbling and unfortunate (if adorable), and Fabian buys all of the supplies because he’s a rich asshole. But sometimes Riz doesn’t feel like making food, and so they have to settle for the poor people food that literally everyone fucking else eats. “It’s the middle of December. It’s just the change from being outside.”

“No, it’s like, really, legitimately hot,” Gorgug says. Riz nods emphatically.

Kristen raises a dubious eyebrow. “Are you guys sick?” she frowns, scanning them. Fabian immediately scoots several seats away. Riz tosses a grape at him.

“It doesn’t feel sick,” Riz says, pushing his sleeves further up his arms. He feels gross and sweaty, like he’s just come back from one of those ‘Strength for Dex Majors’ classes Fabian made him take. “Just – hot. I can’t believe you’re wearing a sweater right now.”

“Maybe it’s a species thing?” Kristen props her chin on her palm. Her eyes are scanning them – spell for detecting poison or disease, probably, or magic, just in case. Heat stroke would be one of the weirder attempts monsters had made on their lives, but Riz can’t blame her for being cautious. “Since you guys are like…green races. Is that racist?”

Gorgug and Riz shrug in tandem. Gorgug pushes his bangs back and out of his eyes, sweat dripping on his forehead. Riz appreciates, at least, knowing it’s not just him going crazy, fanning himself with a napkin.

“Really, do you two need a doctor? I’m sure I could get someone to look at you.” Fabian is looking at them, when he moves back over, frowning. Riz has a hard time meeting his gaze.

Under Fig’s tutelage, Fabian has gotten a lot better at openly showing affection and worry for his friends lately. Which is great! It’s great for him, in so many ways. It’s awesome that he’s more emotionally open, and that he’s comfortable with them, and that he’s learning to handle his emotions healthily. Yay Fabian!

It’s just. Riz spent a long time eagerly overestimating any look Fabian sent his way that wasn’t completely irreverent. That was just how their friendship worked – Fabian dropped little hints, and Riz picked them up and tucked them away to remind himself that Fabian does, in fact, like him. And even though that’s not how it works now, Riz still finds himself picking apart every worried glance Fabian gives him, every protective stance in fights, every sincere smile at a joke. And there are a lot more of them, now. Enough of them that it’s getting hard to deal with the way thinking about it makes his stomach do flips.

“I don’t wanna see a doctor,” Riz mumbles.

Fabian rolls his eyes. “You’re a medical student.”

“Yes, so that I can be a better doctor than usual, because doctors suck.”

“They do not.”

“They do.”

“Let’s make sure it’s medical first,” Kristen cuts in on the familiar argument – less a real point of contention and more for the joke of the unending discussion. “I’m not getting any diseases off you guys. Have you eaten anything weird, lately? Or is something going on?”

Riz shakes his head at the same time that Gorgug says, “I don’t – Ragh! Hey, Ragh! Come over, we need to ask you something real fast!”

Ragh – who only just swiped his card to get into the cafeteria – looks up and, upon seeing who’s calling him, offers a blinding grin. “Gorgug!” he hollers, wandering over with a loud grin. He captures Gorgug into an immediate noogie, which, after token protest, is followed by a loud kiss on the cheek. “How can I help you guys?”

The fact that Ragh Barkrock not only made it into college but continued to attend for the full four years and change has baffled some of the smartest minds Spyre has ever known. Riz has no idea what Ragh is actually going to college for, but respects the grind nonetheless. “Is it hot in here?” Riz says, ignoring the way Kristen snickers. He didn’t mean it as a come on and he won’t be deterred, god dammit. “We can’t decide.”

Ragh blinks. Then he throws his head back and laughs – hearty and chuckling. “Dude, no, it’s just solstice!” He slaps Gorgug on the shoulder. At the blank looks the table gives him, he sobers up a little. “Shit, it’s your guys’ first time, right? Probably didn’t keep track of it.” Ragh makes a complicating wiggling motion with his fingers. “It’s Luthic’s birthday tomorrow, man.”

Something horrible clicks in Riz’s mind. He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat at the same time Gorgug says, “Ooooooooooooooh.”

“What?” Kristen says.

“Don’t worry about it,” Riz says. “It’s when orcs fuck a lot,” Gorgug says. Fabian chokes on his drink.

Kristen slaps Fabian on the back as he hacks. Across the table, Riz is certain his face has gone full blue with how hard he’s blushing, tips of his ears down. Fuck. He’d totally forgotten. He’d – frankly, he’d forgotten that it’s a thing at all, and so did Gorgug by the fuzzy panic on his face. “You good, captain?” Ragh says.

Fabian takes a long, shuddering breath. “I’m fine. And I haven’t been your captain in four years.”

“It’s about you being captain in my heart, bro.”

Fabian gives Ragh a look that is half-bemused. “So it, uh. You guys are hot because you – “ Fabian coughs a few more times into his arm, ears a faint red. “You, uh, are. Going to be having sex? Or something?”

“Why does Luthic’s birthday make you horny?” Kristen says. Riz buries his face in his hands.

“Luthic’s an orcish goddess,” Gorgug says. “Fertility. Orcs are like – aaah, big muscle men, you know? Lots of pent up sex stuff. Luthic made it not as bad for most of the year, but on her birthday, it kinda goes off the rails.” Gorgug picks at his plate. He isn’t blushing like Riz is, but there is a distinct shake to his arms. “It’s, uh. It doesn’t start ‘till you’re, like, in your 20s. ‘Cause of age stuff. For. Reasons.”

“But why is Riz horny?” Kristen says.

“Please stop talking,” Riz trills, sinking down a full foot in his seat.

“Not sure,” Gorgug says, ignoring him. Riz kicks him in the shin. Unfortunately Riz has 6 strength, so Gorgug doesn’t even notice. “The legends have it where goblins were made to be, like, soldiers for orcs and stuff. So the idea is that the orcs needed somebody to fuck, since they needed to fuck so bad, and that Luthic was like, okay, I can’t make it better for you, but I can make it so the goblins want you to have sex with them on the day of, so at least it’s, like, not as bad as it could be? I think.”

“You’re telling me all goblins are bottoms,” Kristen says. Riz is never coming out from under this table. He lives here now, in his shame tent underneath his chair. No one is ever going to see his face again. He is going to be the detective doctor hobo who never moves, and people will come from far and wide to try and catch a glimpse of him, and they won’t, because his stealth bonus is fucking bonkers.

Gorgug shrugs. “According to legend.”

Someone grabs Riz by the neck and pulls him out from under the table, depositing him back on his chair without issue. “It’s chill, man,” Ragh laughs. Riz is horrified to find that Ragh manhandling him actually is kind of turning him on. In the middle of public. Ragh still having his hand on Riz’s neck is a turn-on. Riz is getting off on a guy kind of brushing against him. He hasn’t been that pent up in years. “Can’t hide from it, y’know?”

“I certainly can,” Riz says, in a way that is dignified and not squeaky and not leaning into Ragh’s hand.

Ragh lets out another laugh, heartfelt, that shakes down through him and into Riz. “Do what you want, dude,” he says, with a friendly pat on the shoulder that Riz’s body desperately wants him to overanalyze. “But, like, I’ve been there, and going through it alone fuckin’ sucks. Not gonna tell you how to live your life, but finding someone to make it bearable – helps, yeah?”

“Hsfdjklsj,” Riz says, intelligently.

“Thank you, Ragh,” Fabian says, and Riz blinks at how clipped his voice is. Maybe Riz is projecting, heart jumping at what he wants to be there, but Fabian has lost all of the joking comradery from a minute ago, his eyes hard and lips pursed, eyes flicking between Ragh’s face and where his hand is still resting on Riz’s shoulder. If Riz weren’t very suddenly realizing how much he wants to have sex right now, he might be able to interpret it as the worry that it probably is, but Riz’s brain is kind of somewhere else right now. ‘Somewhere else’ being a very specific daydream where Fabian fucks him over the cafeteria table in front of everyone so they know who Riz belongs to, which is a daydream that Riz has worked very hard to keep himself from having. “That will be all.”

“’Course.” Ragh pats Riz one more time before he lets his hand slide off. “If either of you need help – you’ve got my number, yeah?”

“Appreciate it,” Gorgug says, and Riz feels a little lightheaded.

When Ragh leaves Gorgug slumps fully in his chair, forehead resting on the table. “Shit,” he says, and Riz has to agree.

“Did Ragh just ask you guys for a threesome?” Kristen sounds far more delighted than she has any right to be.

“No he did not,” Riz says, because he has to distract himself from the vivid fantasy of Fabian’s dick in his mouth – which, fuck, Fabian’s right here, and when Riz squrims uncomfortably Fabian looks at him with that open concern again that makes his heart roll and it is not helping. “Fuck,” Riz says under his breath.

“Riz,” Gorgug says. “I know what the obvious solution is. But we can’t have sex. Zelda would kill me.”

“No one. At any point. Made that argument,” Riz says.

“We were all thinking it,” Gorgug says.

“Absolutely no one was thinking it,” Fabian says.

“But it can’t be,” Gorgug plows on, shaking his head solemnly. “I want to help, but I can’t. I’m really sorry.”

“At least you’ve got someone to fuck,” Kristen snorts, and then looks at Riz. “You should ask Ragh to help. He was coming onto you.”

“What?” Now that’s a good distraction. Riz gives Kristen a full, quizzical look. “No he wasn’t. That’s just Ragh. And I don’t – I don’t need help.”

“Okay, first, he totally was,” Kristen says. “And second – dude, you are sweating so hard right now. It’s gonna get worse tomorrow? This looks like it sucks. Fully.”

“It’s fine,” Riz says.

It’s not. It’s really not. Riz feels like he’s been worked up for hours, and he’s only just realized what’s going on. But it’s not, like – look, Riz dealt with the whole pent-up gay thing in high school, he can certainly handle this bullshit as a full adult. Without, like, jacking off to his roommate, or jumping his roommate, or any other stupid things that could happen specifically involving Fabian coming home and finding Riz jacking off and fucking him through it, which would be stupid. Riz is an ADULT. He’s FINE.

“You should put Ragh on speed dial, just in case,” Gorgug says, and Riz lets his own forehead fall against the table.

* * *

Riz and Fabian avoid talking about it for the entire rest of the evening, less because they don’t try and more because every time Fabian starts talking Riz makes a noise like he’s about to die. The moment they get back to their place, Riz buries himself under his covers and dedicates himself to playing picross on his crystal until he dies in his new shame tent.

He can still hear Fabian moving around, though, because Fabian talks to himself when he works, and it’s his week to clean up the living space. Fabian and Riz don’t actually live in a dorm. That would be too poor for Fabian’s blood. They’re only just barely off campus instead, in a sort of not-apartment that has its own washer and dryer and a front room and everything, bigger than the apartment Riz grew up in. It was weird at first, but Riz quickly found that Fabian fills any space he inhabits, between his presence and his noise and his motion. Normally, it is a comfort. Right now, when he is doing his best not to think about what that voice would sound like an octave lower, whispered, in Riz’s ear, doing sexy things, it is the opposite of a comfort. (Riz will not allow himself to get more specific than ‘sexy things.’ He won’t.)

Eventually, the lights of the apartment turn out one by one, and Fabian pushes the door open to their room. Riz determinedly does not flip around as Fabian changes into his pajamas (no shirt, he never wears a shirt to sleep, it’s fucking December it is so unfair that his abs are still right there it’s freezing for him the jackass).

Just when Riz thinks he’s in the clear, Fabian says, softly, “Hey. Um. Just wanted you to know. I have that big test Monday. So I’m gonna be out studying most of the day tomorrow. But. If you. Need anything. For the. Um. Birthday. Thing. Just. I’ll have my crystal, so just text, okay? If you – if you end up inviting anyone over, too, to, um. Help. Just. Let me know. Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” Riz says, voice strangled, because he knows exactly what he needs from Fabian, and his brain is supplying some very unhelpful ideas of how to make that happen over crystal. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” There is another long, painful stretch of silence where neither of them move. Finally, Fabian turns off the light and climbs into bed across the room.

This is fine, Riz thinks. This is fine. I can handle this.

* * *

Upon waking up, it becomes quickly apparent that Riz is not, in fact, fine.

The problem is not so much the arousal - that is its own problem, of course, that he’s jacking off as he wakes up before he even realizes what he’s doing, that it barely takes the edge off for a minute. The problem is the everything else. Riz had figured he would throw _One Rude Horse_ in and focus on speedrunning it, or clean the house, and would think about the fact that his mom is doing this right now with Gorthalax when it got to its worst and he really needed to calm down, because gross. But Riz is having trouble keeping his mind on anything for longer than 3 seconds other than hazy fantasies and the feeling of his own hand. Trouble doing things like, y’know, eating. So it’s a little bit of a concern.

Riz doesn’t move out of bed for most of the morning, caught in a doze where he is only half-aware of anything but the heady smell of Fabian from the other side of the room and what exactly that smell is doing to his dick. His brain goes through 18 different ways to fuck himself on Fabian’s bed, each increasingly more difficult to talk himself out of. He’s not gonna just do it once and then be able to wash all of Fabian’s shit when he gets home. He just isn’t. That is crazy talk. But it is very tempting crazy talk.

By noon, when Riz has wiggled himself up and fit most of his fingers inside of himself and is so hungry it’s starting to overcome how aroused he is, Riz is starting to think Ragh might’ve been right about needing help. He brings himself, whimpering, over the edge one more time, thinking about what his fingers would feel like if they were Fabian’s instead, and then collapses onto his stomach on the bed, pulling his fingers out and wiping them on his covers - more for show than anything else. He is going to need to do so much laundry.

Riz should ask for help. But Riz doesn’t - do that. He’s not against it, or whatever, but it’s not how he operates. He wouldn’t even know how to approach the conversation for a casual hook-up, not least an all-day-long casual hook-up. Riz is a relationship kind of guy, long-term full-heart. And even then, he’s only really ever had the one, with Corvus the tiefling from freshman year, and it didn’t prepare him for this specific situation. And it feels - it would be weird, for him, to just fuck a stranger to get it over with. That’s not what he wants.

Fabian said text if you need anything, Riz’s brain reminds him unhelpfully. Just tell him you need his dick inside of you. He said he wanted to help.

Riz wishes the part of his brain having these thoughts was a separate being so he could shoot it. But he does need things other than - than Fabian himself, and Fabian had been worried. Riz needs to - okay, he definitely needs to shower, and to probably strip the top layer of sheets so that he can sit down on his bed without immediately feeling disgusting. But more specifically, Riz has gone long stints without eating before, and the last time Fabian caught Riz half-starved he was pissed, so at the very least he can deal with that.

If his brain can focus long enough to formulate a text that isn’t hypersexual.

_the ball: food_  
_the ball: plz bring food_  
_the ball: is what i ment_  
_fabian a seacaster: You want me to bring you food?_  
_the ball: ye_  
_the ball: if ist not trouble_  
_fabian a seacaster: It’s no trouble._  
_fabian a seacaster: Any preference? I can grab something from that new Halfling place._  
_the ball: sthing fast_  
_the ball: thanks_  
_fabian a seacaster: No problem._  
_fabian a seacaster: Anything else I can do?_  
_the ball: no_  
_the ball: this fuckind sukcs_  
_fabian a seacaster: Stay strong. Kristen will make fun of you if you don’t._

Riz wheezes a laugh despite himself as he drops his phone. Stupid fucking Fabian, being cute and funny and shit when Riz is so turned on he could cry. God dammit.

The knowledge that Fabian is coming by does kick Riz into gear, a little bit. He drags himself off the bed, for one. He strips the top sheet off his mattress, wrinkles his nose at it, and stumbles directly to the washer, where he throws it in and starts it at whatever setting it’s already on, who cares. He glances at himself in the bathroom mirror on his way through, washing his hands, and - well, there’s nothing doing about the whole sex hair thing he has going on right now, or the slightly feral glint in his eye, but he can at least splash some water on his face and hope that Fabian is willing to politely ignore the rest. God, if Fabian makes fun of him, Riz is going to put orange dye in his hair gel.

Riz is just throwing off his gross clothes when he hears the front door open, and it’s a rush to just throw on whatever is relatively-clean and close by. It’s not until Riz is wearing it that he realizes, in horror, that this is way too big for him, and not his shirt at all, and definitely one of the muscle shirts Fabian left lying in a pile on the floor when the cold weather started setting in. The smell of Fabian is so much more now, and Riz has to close his eyes where he’s standing, swaying, breathing in the scent of it.

“The Ball?” Fabian calls from the outer room, which does not help Riz’s feeble restraint against just pulling the shirt up to his nose and jacking off immediately. “You here?”

Somehow, with the emotional strength of several major deities, Riz pulls himself away from his own bed’s gravitational pull, stumbling to the bedroom door. “‘M here,” he calls as he pushes his open, voice a little hoarse. He shuffles sheepishly out into the kitchen, where - 

He’s not gonna jump Fabian he’s not gonna jump Fabian he’s not gonna jump Fabian he’s not gonna jump Fabian he’s not gonna ARE WE GOOD YET CAN WE MOVE ON NOW PLEASE BRAIN YOU FUCKING JACKASS PIECE OF GARBAGE WE ARENT JUMPING FABIAN PLEASE MOVE ON.

Fabian clears his throat and Riz starts moving again, towards Fabian - BAD IDEA DO NOT JUMP FABIAN - and then collapsing onto a chair, whole body shivering. “Hey,” Riz says faintly. “What - uh, what’s up. Bro. My dude.”

Fabian blinks. Oh god, Riz is going to move to the Baronese when this is over. It doesn’t help that Fabian looks good - not just his normal good, which is already the most attractive man Riz has ever met in his life, but especially good, a little flushed from the sting of the cold outside. His hair is artfully arranged, like always, but a few strands have fallen in that way Riz really likes even at the best of times, just a bit disheveled and breathless. “Uhhh,” Fabian says, and looks at Riz.

Riz is cool. Riz has this under control. Riz is not going to make this weird. Just one bro, helping another bro eat, in the middle of a 24-hour masturbation session. Totally platonic. “‘Sup,” Riz says, unsuspiciously.

“You’re - “ Fabian looks away, coughing into the sleeve of his hoodie, and man oh man Riz wants him to take that thing the fuck off. “You, uh. That shirt doesn’t quite fit you, The Ball.”

Oh god. Like Riz could forget. It takes a moment to move past the instant ‘oh, that’s right, Fabian’s shirt is on my body right now, good excuse to jack off’ to ‘oh wait this looks bad.’ “I, uh - I just changed. I haven’t. Done. Anything. In it. I was just - I grabbed the first - I, uh, I’ll take it off man, and also wash it, I mean, I haven’t done anything in it, and I won’t, obviously, but just in case, I can throw it in, with, uh, my sheets, because,” Oh God how does he stop himself from talking he’s too far in, “they will, also need washed, hey is that food I’m fucking starving.” SMOOTH.

Fabian startles - which seems unfair, he’s thinking with a clear head right now, he is not the one that should be caught off guard - and grabs the brown bag, almost protectively. “Oh - yeah! I got some of those cheese things Cathilda used to make. Figured you’d like ‘em.”

“Fuck yeah,” Riz says, and doesn’t realize how much it sounds like a moan until Fabian’s arm stiffens on the way over. Riz is gonna bang his head on the wall until his brains fall out. “I mean - “ he clears his throat, professionally, and also platonically. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Uh-huh.” Fabian sounds a little dazed as he hands Riz the bag. Very suddenly, the smell of Fabian’s shirt is replaced by the smell of cheese danish things, and Riz is violently overwhelmed by how fucking hungry he is. All embarrassment is immediately deposited in a side container of Riz’s head that he will address in the shame tent later, in favor of getting as much food in his body as fast as possible.

“Dude - Riz, slow down, you’re gonna make yourself throw up.” Fabian touches Riz’s hand and Riz’s whole body screeches to a stop. Because, okay, first, Fabian is touching him, Fabian has a hand on Riz’s wrist, and Riz’s entire sphere of perception has zeroed in on where skin-to-skin contact is happening, holding his breath to keep from disturbing it. And secondly - Fabian didn’t mean to tell Riz what to do, he just meant to help out, but Fabian just gave an unintentional order and Riz is, like, not in the best state of mind right now, okay, sue him, literally a strong breeze could turn him on right now.

“Uh,” Fabian says, after several seconds of the two of them standing completely still, Riz’s eyes the size of saucers. “You - okay? The Ball?”

It takes a moment for Riz to remember how to talk. “Uh-huh,” he squeaks, several octaves higher than usual. His eyes dart to Fabian’s hand. When Fabian realizes, he jerks back like he’s been burned, restoring just enough of Riz’s logic that he’s still turned on but now he’s embarrassed about it again. “Sorry,” he says, breathless, still staring at Fabian, at Fabian’s hands.

“I’m - “ Fabian takes a long breath. He looks away, eyes diverting to the kitchen counter. “You, uh, you look - that is, you seem - “ He clears his throat. When he looks back his shoulders are set again, rigid. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

I think if you touch my hand again I’ll physically combust, Riz’s brain supplies as he swallows the melted cheese. “Uh, I - I don’t,” Riz swallows. Then he shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.

He can’t get through this alone. He can’t. He’s going insane. And Fabian won’t - won’t make fun of him too much, probably, at least not for a few days while it’s still embarrassing to talk about. “...I think I need help,” Riz admits, finally, staring at the floor. Which is a bad choice, because it brings his face closer to Fabian’s shirt, and he’s not gonna make this any weirder than it already fucking is, goddammit. “Getting. Through. I - I underestimated, um, what it would be like. And I don’t think I can - “ he swallows.

Fabian isn’t helping, standing completely still, just watching Riz intently. It’s not - it’s not a sexual thing, Riz is just projecting because he can’t think with anything but his dick right now, and Riz wants to shiver and get Fabian to look at him like that all the time, forever. “Ragh was right,” Riz admits, quietly, and Fabian’s breath catches. “And I - I don’t know, if Kristen was right, about him, actually being willing to, um, help, but I think - I don’t think I can dial a phone right now, or, or even just like, remember his number, but - “

“You want me to call Ragh to fuck you?” Fabian says, with something Else in his voice, that makes Riz want to melt.

“I want - “ That’s not true, Riz doesn’t want Ragh, per se. “I need,” he starts again, but finds he still can’t go any further, swallowing, Fabian’s eyes still on him like laser sight, “He’s not - my first choice, but I, I can’t - “

“Who’s your first choice?” Fabian says, voice and face unreadable.

The room is silent. “Riz?” Fabian says, a little more tenderly, and his expression makes Riz swallow again and say, “Please, don’t jerk me around, not right now, you can let me down later, I just, I can’t - “ and something like realization flashes across Fabian’s face, wide-eyed, Fabian’s so fucking stupid, Riz is the least subtle person in the world, he’d thought for certain that Fabian knew already and was trying to be gentle about it -

“Riz,” Fabian says, and his voice is an octave lower, like in all of Riz’s daydreams. He walks forward, slowly, like a predator, and Riz is about to lose his entire mind as Fabian rests his arm on the chairback, leaning in so that their faces are equal height, so that Riz can see the way Fabian’s mouth moves. “Who’s your first choice?”

Riz can feel the blood leaving his knuckles where he’s gripping the chair, swallowing, shaking in place as Fabian leans, cool and unperturbed, over him. “Fabian,” Riz breathes, voice half a wreck, just to see how Fabian’s breath catches at the sound, and then - Riz reaches up, trembling, to wrap his hands over Fabian’s shoulder, up the back of his scalp and into his hair, and when Fabian doesn’t resist - when Fabian looks at him like that - 

Riz’s brain is screaming to get down and suck Fabian’s dick right here. He tells it to shut the fuck up, leans in, and kisses him.

Fabian is open, responsive, and instantaneous, leaning in so Riz feels the full force of his mouth pressing in. He whimpers when Fabian bites at his lip, and the next thing he knows he’s been picked up, pliant, pushed against the door between the kitchen and bedroom. He moans out loud when Fabian ruts up into him, the contact on his dick like he hasn’t felt it in days. “Holy shit,” Fabian says, half delirious, reaching blind to grab the door handle and push in.

“Thought about you,” Riz slurs as Fabian stumbles in, dropping Riz on his bed - on Fabian’s bed, where Riz has been daydreaming about across the room all day, so near and so far, just out of reach. It’s like being surrounded by Fabian, safe and taken care of and about to get what he needs. “All day, fucking myself, wished it was you, wished it was here.”

“Jesus,” Fabian says, tearing his hoodie off over his head, revealing a t-shirt underneath. Riz can’t stay down for long, has to lean up and kiss him before he can take that off too, his hands tight in the fabric of Fabian’s shirt, moaning into his open mouth. “Kept trying to study and getting distracted,” Fabian says, pushing Riz to lie down again, “thinking about what you were doing to yourself. When you walked out looking like that - fuck, Riz. In my shirt.”

“Thought about jerking off with it,” Riz arches, when Fabian pulls his legs up, squeezes his ass through the exercise shorts Riz had thrown on hasty. “Just - just to get closer to you. This room smells like you, it’s been driving me fucking insane, wanted to fuck myself with your stupid fucking bloodrush trophy, on your bed, Christ.”

“The trophy that kinda looks like a dick?” Fabian says, and laughs when Riz nods, scrambling nails pulling Fabian’s shirt over his head. “Dude, that thing is so stupid, you would’ve looked so dumb - “

“Yeah, ‘cause I was gonna go looking for your dumb sex toys to use, they cost like, a billion dollars, at least the trophy’s cheap.”

“It’s a trophy that looks like a dick, dude, the experience of owning it is priceless.”

“Shut up,” Riz says, laughing again, his whole body burning hot but his mind still caught on Fabian and his dumb sense of humor. “Just - come on, man, just fuck me, I’ve been waiting for it, I need you.”

“I know.” Fabian kisses him again, a little slower, but Riz can’t handle slower right now, dials it right the fuck back up until Fabian is humming into his mouth, hitching one of Riz’s legs over his own. “Empty, yeah? Need somebody to fuck you open? I got you, babe. No worries.”

Riz’s hips are jerking, short jumps in quick succession, unable to stop himself from writhing up as Fabian grinds down. “Need you,” Riz insists, and pulls his hands up Fabian’s back without thinking about his nails, that he’s leaving scratches, but Fabian buries his face into Riz’s neck and moans. Some distant part of Riz acknowledges that, Fabian liking pain? Yeah, that clocks. “Not just anybody. Don’t want - Ragh, or some guy, I want - just - “

Fabian brushes hands up Riz’s side, underneath his shirt, a little ticklish and skittish as he reaches up to roll one of Riz’s nipples with his thumb. “Damn right,” he breathes, in between sucking on the hollow of Riz’s neck. “That drove me crazy, thought of you going to Ragh, or calling up Corvus, or something, getting off with them. Couldn’t stand it.”

“You were jealous?” Riz laughs, fumbling with Fabian’s fly.

“Mmmhmm.” Fabian pushes on Riz’s shirt so that Riz has to lift his arms up, and Riz thinks Fabian is gonna tug it off but instead he pulls it up to the wrists and wraps it, between Riz’s hands and the headboard. “Somebody else seeing you like that? Of course I was jealous. Give every gold I own to have you like that all the time, waiting for me to come home to.”

“Fabian - “ Riz tugs, and finds that he can’t move his hands far from the headboard, not like this when he can’t focus enough to even think. “You can’t, just say, shit - “

“I can.” Fabian traces the line of Riz’s dick through his shorts and Riz groans, tossing his head to the side. “You want me to give you back your hands? Or you want it like this? Me telling you what to do and shit?”

“Both,” Riz gasps as Fabian tugs his shorts down, taking him in hand, quick, jerky motions. “Whatever you want, just - just don’t stop, please, just - “

“I won’t,” Fabian says, kissing Riz again, and this is its own kind of hot, Riz needing so badly to reach in and feel and touch and not getting it, just having to lie back and take it. Whatever primal thing is possessing him for the holiday wants it, just like that, open and used and owned. “Couldn’t stop if I tried. Just look at you, fuck. What do you need? What can I do?”

“Fuck me,” Riz gasps, wrapping his legs around Fabian and wriggling so that the front of Fabian’s jeans push against his bare ass, and it’s cold with the zipper and textured weird with the jeans but it’s good, it makes Riz bite his lip so hard that he thinks he breaks skin. “Been trying on my own all fucking day and it’s not enough, just, put your dick in me, you jackass, I’ve been dreaming about it - “

“Fuck, when you beg.” Fabian pulls Riz’s ass up, dips a finger in just to feel how loose Riz is, how well he’s fucked himself out over the day, just a tease, not enough. “Shit, you have been fucking yourself. Opened yourself up for me? Thinking about my dick while you did it?”

“Obviously,” Riz grits his teeth, “ Hurry up, you jackass, get inside me.”

Fabian laughs into Riz’s shoulder as he pulls down his pants and underwear in one quick move, kicking them onto the floor next to the bed. He reaches up and over Riz, fumbling with a drawer on the nightstand, before he pulls back with a little bottle, pours it into his hand, pauses. “You want me to find a condom?” he says, pushing one of Riz’s legs up so that he’s spread open, clenching on nothing. “Or do you just want my hand?”

“No, I don’t just want your hand,” Riz snaps. “I want you to fuck me like this. If you don’t have anything, I trust you, just do it already.”

Fabian, infuriatingly, does not do it already. He just pulls Riz open with one hand brushes the head of his dick against it, jacking himself with a hand full of lube, so that Riz writhes but gets nothing. “Don’t rush me,” Fabian says, and there’s a laugh in his voice, the fucking jackass. “Should make you beg longer, just for trying to tell me what to do.”

Riz snarls out loud, something primal. He doesn’t look very threatening, tied by the hands to the headboard, visibly fucked out, one leg pushed up to his chest, but he still scowls, says, “If you aren’t gonna fuck me, maybe I should go to Ragh after all, maybe his dick will do better opening me up, you fucking - “

He chokes off, because Fabian snaps his hips forward, face contorted into a half-snarl, burying himself in Riz. It’s so much more than his hand, Fabian’s just bigger than Riz as a species, but it’s perfect, too much inside of him all at once, overwhelming in just the way he needs. “Don’t,” Fabian says, and his voice is dark, threatening, over Riz’s shaking body.

Riz knows an upper hand, and he knows how to keep it. “Worried?” he says in a wobbly voice, nothing compared to the hard steel in Fabian’s eyes, immovable even as Riz shivers on his dick. “Worried he’ll - he’ll see me like this, all tied up? Do what he wants to me?”

Fabian actually snarls this time, fucking out and back in, hard, so that Riz feels it, moans on Fabian’s dick. “I’d beat the shit out of him if he touched you,” Fabian says, and he’s paused with his dick as deep in Riz as it can get, just rotating his hips slowly so he feels out. “Nobody but me gets to fuck you. You’re gonna walk out of here and everybody’s gonna know you’re fucking mine.”

Riz doesn’t have time to respond, because Fabian pulls out all the way, readjusts, and fucks him, and he doesn’t really have the capacity for words anymore.

Fabian fucks hard, fast - like Riz knew he would - but ultimately, selfless - like Riz knows he is. He leaves messy bruises on Riz’s shoulders, hands exploring anywhere they can touch, up Riz’s arms, over his thighs, across his stomach, and he fucks, smooth, until Riz is drooling with how good he’s getting dicked. “Never letting you go,” he breathes, finally reaching for Riz’s dick, brushing a thumb over the tip of it. “Not after this. Gonna get a mirror and a camera and fuck you in front of both of ‘em, always keep you around just for me.”

Riz can’t make words, really, has been reduced to strung out little ahhs and hnngs, but he still has presence in him, now, to push down as Fabian pushes up, to meet halfway. “Please,” Riz slurs, “my hands, I wanna, just - “

Fabian reaches up, and within a moment Riz is pulling his arms down, wrapping around Fabian’s back, letting him attach starfish-like as Fabian fucks into him. “Love you,” Riz mumbles, only half-aware of what he’s saying, Fabian pulling his cheeks apart so that Riz can feel every inch of him, “Fuck, loved you, years and years, please, please - “

Fabian’s arm around his back tightens, muscles straining as he mouths at the spot behind Riz’s ear. “Love you, too,” he gasps, and Riz cums.

“Don’t stop,” he breathes, pleads, into Fabian’s neck, and Fabian doesn’t, just hoists Riz up so they’re sitting and fucks him like that, until he comes again, because it doesn’t take long for Riz to get off right now, like this, with Fabian on him and around him and inside him. When Riz feels it coming on a third time, he leans into Fabian’s chest, mouthing sloppily at it. “Come inside me,” he slurs, words toppling out of his mouth with no filter, “wanna - wanna feel it, wanna be full of it, please, please.”

“Shit,” Fabian gasps, thrusts going erratic. “That’s not - I don’t think that’s how it works, outside of, of, porn, fuck - “

“Fabian,” Riz whines, and that does it, Fabian pushing in and biting down at once, cumming, Riz following behind him with a gasp.

They take a moment of silence to just gasp together, the hand on Riz’s back slowly untensing to draw small patterns over his spine, lovely and soothing. “How long,” Fabian says, breathless, “until it, uh, until you go again?”

“I dunno,” Riz says. Fabian’s dick is probably oversensitive inside him, but he doesn’t want him to pull out, snuggling his face into Fabian’s collarbone, letting Fabian trace his shoulderblades. “It hasn’t, uh - gotten easier, all day, until now. Are you - um, I know it's a lot, if you don’t want to be here for all of it, I’d understand - “

Fabian laughs, like it’s been punched out of him. “With the way you look?” he says. “I’m not gonna have trouble with that, dude. Elven refractory’s a good time.”

“Ewww,” Riz says, and Fabian hugs him a little closer, chuckling into his hair. “We should shower, maybe. I’m - pretty gross. And then - “ He hesitates, a hand curling over Fabian’s abs. “I, uh, I don’t know if you want to hold to, things that are said in the middle of, um, extremely drawn out sex sessions, but - “

Fabian pulls his chin up with a finger and cuts off his blabbering, smiling as he kisses Riz. “I meant it,” Fabian says, looking smug. “I do love you. Dumbass.”

“Okay,” Riz says. “Cool. Me too. So. Yeah.”

Fabian watches him for another moment, smile slowly growing. “What?” Riz finally says, puffing his cheeks out as he frowns.

Fabian pulls in to kiss him one more time. “Nothing,” he says. Slowly, he pulls Riz off of him, sitting him back on the mattress, shivering as he feels Fabian’s cum move inside him, which is - it’s weird, but it’s not bad, not necessarily. Fabian throws his legs over the side of the bed and stands, stretching, stupidly sculpted adonis body on display. “Ready?”

Riz has no idea how he got so lucky.

“Yeah,” he says, getting up on shaky legs, and lets Fabian lead the way.

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone from dropout is reading this you have my permission to use it on erotic book club if and only if none of the d20 cast is ever, ever allowed to see it themselves
> 
> follow my nsfw tumblr @demisexualriz!


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